Lonely Souls

by Karice Bolton

  “Thx for checking on the ceremony. It took an odd turn, but the good news is that Logan and I are taking a trip together for the summer. Not sure where all we are going, but we already started today, and I’ll keep you posted. Heading into no cell service soon. xoxo

  Within seconds, I got a reply from Jenny. It was too much for her to handle.

  “Sounds like Logan’s already proved he very well might be the medicine the doctor ordered. I’m impressed, but I’ll be sure to keep it quiet from Trevor. Doubt he’d be thrilled. Have fun and keep me posted on your trip. Should be fun! xoxo

  Not sure what she meant by the Trevor comment, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. He never showed interest until he moved several states away, and he’s not my type. I’m not sure what my type was, but then I glanced over at Logan and realized I knew exactly what my type was, and he happened to be sitting right next to me.

  “She approve?” he asked. Funny he’s been around me long enough to know how few options I have for texting people.

  “Jenny was excited for me. I made it sound pretty awesome, I guess. Can’t really text, ‘hoping to find my mom… hiding in forest… wish me luck’,” I said.

  “Very true. When you put it that way, what the heck are we doing?” He started laughing, and I was thankful for his sense of humor.

  Chapter 20

  We pulled down the long dirt road that was almost completely obscured by the blackberries and tangled grass. It was probably better that it was overgrown because it had that “do-not-trespass” vibe surrounding the place. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue down the drive as my nerves started getting the better of me. The winter weather hadn’t been kind to the road leading up to the home.

  As our car bounced in and out of the potholes, my body tensed and my nerves started to take over again. I glanced over at Logan and his jaw was clenched, accentuating his already angular features and creating a thin line in place of his lips. I placed my hand on his leg, and he flashed me a grin, but it fell quickly.

  “A little nervous?” he asked.

  I nodded, “And I don’t even know why.”

  “I’m unsettled too,” he replied.

  “I know.”

  “How do you know?” he challenged.

  “I just do.” I didn’t want to tell him it was because I found myself staring at him so much I could tell when his muscles tensed or his brows furrowed.

  We rounded the last corner, and I sat upright in my seat, finally letting the excitement begin to flow through me as we got closer to the cottage. This place held a special place in my heart, and I hoped somehow it would bring me closer to my mom.

  The overgrown thicket alongside the drive began to diminish leading way to a clearing that allowed the wildflowers to take over. This very snapshot is what I remembered about our cottage property. My mom and I always managed to time our visits when everything was in full bloom, right out of school. Our little cobblestone house was staking a claim in the middle of a clearing with splashes of color framing the entire area. The wildflowers were exploding in color spraying brilliantly in every direction I looked, each with a different color from the rainbow. The bright yellow of the alpine cinquefoil trailed up the driveway, and the brilliant red columbine, deep purple fairy slippers, and fire-engine red skyrocket, peppered through the tall grass made me feel completely at peace and at home, our new temporary home.

  I rolled down the window taking in a deep breath, letting the smell of the mountain air bring new life to my world. Looking over at Logan, I saw the beauty of what we were witnessing bringing calmness to him too. His eyes softened, and his lips were no longer stretched thin.

  “Look at that. The alpine aster’s in full bloom,” he said, with his lips curling mischievously.

  “How do you know that name?” I asked, beginning to tease him, and then it hit me.

  My heart sunk a little thinking about how self-absorbed and thoughtless I tended to be, and now, I’ve got another example to add to the list. When we were around nine, he made me a crown out of the daisies, and I stood there correcting him the entire time. He called them daisies, and I wanted him to call them by their correct name, the alpine aster. We were playing house, and I was actually wearing the crown for our pretend wedding.

  “I’m glad I’m that memorable,” he said laughing, unable to resist the jab.

  “You made me a daisy crown, and we got married. I remember it perfectly,” I paused, my voice softening. “You are very memorable, Logan. Sometimes I just need a gentle reminder to get out of my mess of thoughts with everything.”

  “So am I allowed to call them daisies now?” he asked, still grinning.

  I rolled my eyes at him and laughed.

  “It’s so beautiful. It’s hard not to feel guilty about being here while my mom might be who knows where,” I sighed.

  “We are here for a reason, Triss. You’ve got to stop with the guilt, or it’s going to eat you alive,” he said, pulling in front of our cottage built of stone. He got out of the car and started throwing the straps of some of our bags over his broad shoulders. He was distracted with something again.

  “Let’s hope no raccoons have gotten in and made a home,” I said quietly.

  “Are you serious? That’s happened before?” He stopped and turned to look at me through the pile of bags and boxes in the car.

  “No, just wanted to see if you were listening to me or not. You got distracted again. I could tell,” I replied. “If you want me to start breaking down my walls, you’ve got to do the same.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” he nodded, his eyes beginning to sparkle again.

  I hopped out of the car and grabbed a bag, before walking up to the porch. With every step closer to the front door, I placed more and more hope on finding the answers we needed to bring my mom home. The cottage would hopefully provide the protection we needed to figure out and execute our plans, but I still had a sense of worry creeping up inside that anything we did couldn’t bring her back anyway.

  I swung open the door, and Logan was right behind me taking in the view of the place that held so much hope for us both.

  “It hasn’t changed at all,” he murmured into my hair, pushing me gently from behind. I fought with all my strength not to let my mind wander.

  The kitchen was directly to the left with a butcher-block island in the center where my mom and I would often prepare whatever herbs and flowers we had picked for the day. To the right was the great room with a huge fireplace that was our only source of heat. Down the hall at the back of the house were the two bedrooms. Everything was pretty open and airy, but all the curtains were drawn, making it darker than usual. My fingers found the switch on the wall and flipped it on.

  I set my bag down on the ground and went over to the kitchen, sliding open the window.

  “I think we should open all the windows and get some fresh air circulating. Seems a little stuffy,” I said.

  “Sounds good to me,” Logan said, putting the many bags he somehow managed to strap onto himself down next to my one lone bag on the wooden floor.

  He walked over to the window in the great room and opened the curtains and window, letting the light flood in. I walked to the back of the house and opened the window in the bedroom that I stayed in and a sigh escaped as I was about to enter my mom’s room.

  “Everything okay?” Logan asked.

  He must have heard my not-so-subtle sigh.

  “Yeah, just going into my mom’s room. Sorry,” I hollered back, and he was there instantly. Not that it was that hard to do since it was such a small home.

  “Triss, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” And he followed behind me as I ventured into my mom’s room, providing the support I didn’t want to admit that I needed. Her room was larger than mine was and filled with a bed, dresser, and rocking chair. I didn’t bother flipping on the light. I went over to her window and shoved open the drapes and slid the window open. I opened the closet and grabbed the plastic bag that house
d the quilts and sheets and threw them on the bed. I turned back around to face Logan. “See, I’m fine. I think this is the room you should take. I’ll stick to the one I’m used to. This one’s too big.”

  “Sure thing,” he replied, his eyes warm.

  “Let’s continue to bring stuff in, and then we’ll figure out what all we might need to go get.” I felt better when I was in control of the task lists. It kept my mind focused on things other than my mom.

  Walking through the hall in a daze, I ran right into some very elaborate cobwebs that our time away had produced. I began spitting and blowing air in a not so polite way in case some had gotten some in my mouth.

  “Triss, don’t be alarmed, but you’ve got a huge spider on your shoulder. I’ll get it,” Logan’s voice warned. His tone was very deliberate as if any excitement would lead to some fiasco beyond help.

  “How big is it?” I asked, unable to crane my neck in that direction.

  “Large enough to freak me out,” he mumbled.

  “That’s all right. I’ve got it,” I replied calmly. “I’ll take it outside.”

  Walking gingerly through the house to the front door, I went outside with Logan following right behind me to shake off the hitchhiker.

  When the spider fell to the ground, my jaw fell with the size of it. It had to be just under the size of my palm. I didn’t think Washington grew them that big.

  “You weren’t kidding about it being a biggie,” I said in amazement.

  He grinned and began combing out the cobwebs from my hair with his fingers, and I enjoyed the rush that his touch stirred inside of me.

  Being at the cottage felt right. I started to feel the hope that I was lacking back at the house and at the covenstead. The bright pops of color that my mom had decorated with helped to cheer me up. The cottage had been in my mom’s family since the early 1900s, but it didn’t seem that old with all the remodeling and decorating my mom had done to it over the years.

  “Triss, are you going to be okay here? Should we go somewhere that you aren’t constantly bombarded with memories?” Logan asked, as he saw me scanning everything.

  “I don’t know what the best thing is, but I’d rather be where I can feel connected to her on some level while we try to figure everything out,” I sighed.

  My body fell on the couch, and Logan sat down in the chair, not making it out to grab more things. I think we were both trying to unwind from the long drive, and this was going to be home for a while for us both. It still hadn’t completely sunk in.

  “Remember when we were on our way to the park, and I asked you if you knew something else, and you answered ‘nothing concrete’?”

  His eyes darkened a shade.

  “I think I’m at the stage in my grief process or healing process or whatever we want to call it to start hearing your not-so-concrete observations,” I told him.

  He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back in the chair with his hands gathered behind his head. His distressed jeans were falling a little too low for me not to be distracted briefly. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. I took my eyes away from the trail on his stomach and forced myself to stay focused. The breeze was picking up and circulating through the house ushering out the stale air, but it was still lacking something.

  Since he hadn’t started speaking yet, I got up from the couch and went out to the car grabbing a couple more of the bags I had placed the bouquets and herbs from our pantry in. Coming back inside, Logan was still stretched out, but his eyes were now open, and he was watching me make my way through the kitchen. I placed the bags on the counter and began searching for the rose and lavender mixture to place on the table in the family room. If I added a little thyme oil to it, I might be able to calm our energy and get him to talk. I knew he was getting close to telling me something. We just weren’t quite there yet.

  Walking over to the cabinet, I grabbed a glass bowl to place my mixture in. I could feel his eyes on me, following my every move, and I did my best not to disappoint as I reached up onto the high shelf. Turning back around to begin my trade, I used the tiny dropper, squeezing a few drops of the thyme oil over the lavender and rose petals, letting the fragrance release into the air.

  “That ought to work for us,” I said, feeling quite domestic, bringing the bowl to the table in the great room.

  I looked up at Logan, his eyes still holding steady on me. He was contemplating what he wanted to tell me, and I hoped I could persuade him to divulge as much as possible.

  “You’ve been so strong, Triss. I know you’ve been holding a lot in, and I don’t want to make things worse for you, especially if there’s no significance. I feel like the more I tell you, the less you’ll want to be near me,” he replied. “And even if you don’t want to be with me in the way I hope, I need to be allowed to protect you. I just don’t want my past to overshadow my future with you.”

  “Doubtful. I’ve grown quite fond of you,” I mumbled, looking up at him surprised by my own admission.

  Logan let out a long groan and placed his head in his hands. He stayed there for a few minutes and then looked back up at me. His dark hair was completely disheveled, and his blue eyes were filled with worry.

  “I’ve been in contact with your father,” he whispered, his eyes turning icy blue. “Not recently. It was when I was studying the dark arts.”

  My insides churned, and I fell back on the couch for support. This wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. I looked away from him and began staring at the glass bowl I had just set down on the table, wishing it would do more for me. I don’t think enough herbs or spells existed to calm me after hearing something like that.

  “Are you going to say anything?” he asked. There was no mistaking the misery in his voice.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said, refusing to look at him. I needed to feel the emotions naturally. I couldn’t let myself get caught up in his soulful stare to distract me from making the right move.

  “This was my worst fear,” he whispered. “Right here and right now, exactly what’s happening. That I’d lose you before I got you.”

  I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was holding his head again. The turmoil the statement I begged him to say was crushing us both. I felt as responsible for this situation as did he. Everything was going so well and then this.

  “Are you going to speak to me again? It probably won’t help, but you can ask me anything, and I’ll answer.” His words melted my heart. Logan was trying so hard to right his past, and here I was digging it up at every chance I could get and throwing it right back at him, only this time it involved a part of me creating a mess I didn’t know that I could fix.

  “I feel like my emotions are under siege, partly by my own doing,” I replied after a few more minutes.

  “I’m sure you do,” he said, his voice tender.

  “Why did you keep this from me?” I asked, looking briefly over at him.

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “Because I didn’t want this to happen. I knew eventually I would need to tell you. I just wasn’t sure when that time would come.”

  “Was it like a one-time deal or what? Did he know you knew me?” I asked suspiciously, as if every answer from this moment forward might lead me down another path I didn’t want to trespass on.

  “It was several times that I was in contact with him. He’s known as an expert in many aspects of black sorcery, and naturally, I wanted to learn from the best. He mostly instructed me through email and phone contact, but he did fly out to Illinois twice for some hands-on training, but that was it for in person contact.” He was in pain with every word he spoke. “And no, I never told him about our connection, but my guess is that he knew. I’m sure that before he took me on, he investigated me a little bit. I…,” he stopped himself.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It probably doesn’t make a difference, but I didn’t know he was your father until it was too late.” He looked up at me waiting for my reaction.


  “What made you stop interacting with him?” I asked, keeping my distance, staring straight ahead rather than at him.

  “You,” he replied. “The entire time I was learning about the dark arts, I kept thinking of you, and if you’d ever give me a chance if that was the path I followed. If I lost you before I’d even gotten the honor to have you, my world wouldn’t be worth living, and that’s what I told myself every day when I was contemplating staying with black magic. I told your father the conflict I was feeling. He thought I was young and foolish, and he told me that he had to make a choice once, and the dark side won.” He stopped to take a deep breath. “That’s when I started to make the connection. I didn’t know it was your father until I was ready to quit. Unfortunately, I was already practicing and under his tutelage before I figured it out.” His eyes were blazing with anger.

  “Wow,” I sighed. “Things just keep getting worse.”

  “Does your mom know?” I whispered.

  “Hardly. I’m sure there are some things that have happened recently that have made her wonder about things, but as far as your father teaching me? No.” He shook his head.

  I sat in silence trying to figure out how to spin this into a positive. Maybe this could work in our favor, or maybe I was being naïve. I started shivering from the breeze that began whipping its way into the house. Logan jumped up and started toward the front door.

  “I’ll get a fire started. We’ll need it for the evening anyhow,” he mumbled, completely at a loss, and left closing the door behind him.

  “Thanks,” I replied, still staring into oblivion and completely in a daze that I wasn’t sure I could shake this time. Thinking back to the night before, I was thankful I hadn’t uttered any words to him that I couldn’t have taken back.

  Chapter 21

  The fire that Logan built earlier was roaring, and it was doing a great job of heating up our tiny cottage, but the heat wasn’t connecting with my bones. Since the moment he spoke those words, I’d been stuck in a frigid ice storm of my own making. I was still in a fog full of confusion and hurt, but somehow managed to cook chicken and rice for our dinner.